


Years Later

by MissOrange



Series: Years Later [1]
Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Return to Neverland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:32:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissOrange/pseuds/MissOrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years did not seem like a long time till they had actually passed and you looked back on them. The time had caused some of the memories to become blurred but not enough to wither Wendy Moria Angela Darling’s belief of Neverland and the adventure she had there; not the boy who would never grow up. The boy who had taught her to fly.</p><p>Wendy returns to Neverland</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Neverland

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the 2003 live action film, with combination of Disney’s version as well as ‘Hook’ and most recently the sy-fy ‘Neverland’. It was inspired by Worth More Than Twenty Boys by Jimbopunck on dA and a passionate belief that Wendy and Peter should be together.

_Neverland_  
  


Four years did not seem like a long time till they had actually passed and you looked back on them. The time had caused some of the memories to become blurred but not enough to wither Wendy Moria Angela Darling’s belief of Neverland and the adventure she had there; not the boy who would never grow up. The boy who had taught her to fly.

But during those four years she had grown up. She looked much the same as she did before with dark brown hair and lovely blue eyes; just slightly longer and slightly older. Her face had lost its childish roundness, had grown taller and defiantly more womanly with small curves.  
Four years really was a long time to change.

Wendy sat curled in her bed a book propped against her bent knees. It was a pleasant night; clear with just a touch of chill to the night air. But for Wendy the nice night was spoiled by a sour evening.

The party really had been a boring event. Upper class mingling with small talk, dancing and tiny cocktail shrimps had never really interested Wendy. She had been polite and danced with those few who didn’t know better of her two left feet that had asked. She had complimented the girls on their dresses but it still hadn’t been enough to appease the social dictators that seemed to be running Wendy’s life.

Mostly there was Aunt Millicent and while Wendy appreciated her family she found it hard to see eye to eye with her Aunt for more than one reason of her being a tall lady. Her constant nagging of etiquette and of course marriage had been increasingly smothering. Aunt Millicent had hovered around the corner of the party and had pounced on Wendy once she tried to rest her feet or try and blend into a corner. The older woman had pushed her back onto the dance floor to mingle with the young ladies and even better with the young and eligible gentlemen.

It was when Wendy had gone to dance with the hostess’ son that had really soured her mood beyond repair. She had swooped in as her son had led Wendy by her hand to the dance floor. She was like a bat out of hell and promptly said her distasteful thoughts on Wendy’s desire to be a novelist and un-lady like behaviour as she led her son away. It was because of her snide comment that sent a group of girls standing off to the side into hushed sniggers.

So at the end of the party Wendy left feeling out of place and squashed. She would have to marry soon and none of the suitors that had knocked and visited had spiked her fancy. All were lovely, polite and charming but none had sparked anything or had made her feel comfortable to be herself. It was at times like these, curled up in bed after a bitter evening that Wendy missed Neverland.

Sighing Wendy looked up from her book and looked out the window. She turned and placed her book on her bedside table before turning off her reading lamp. Rolling over she pulled the blanket over her shoulder and eventually dozed off to sleep.

~*~*~

It had drifted into her dream; as belling sound. It had chimed in and stirred her from her sleep. Rubbing her eyes Wendy propped herself up on her elbow with a yawn. “Who?” she mumbled and looked around her dark room, the belling picked up in urgency and Wendy looked to the window.

There outside a bright, glowing ball floated, illuminating the window sill and seat. “Tinker Bell?” Wendy whispered and for a second Wendy thought she was dreaming again. But then her heart leaped to her throat and she rushed to the window. Opening it with a little more force than necessary the tiny fairy flew in.

“Tinker Bell,” Wendy gushed with a smile as the small fairy floated up to her face. Four years had not changed her; she was still tiny with her golden hair in a tight bun and green leaf dress. Expectantly Wendy glanced towards the window but not even a shadow hovered at its opening. She turned back to the fairy confused, “Where’s Peter?”

Tinker Bell chimed away explaining but Wendy frowned slightly, “I don’t understand,” she admitted. The fairy flew a little higher so that what hung in Wendy’s eye sight and in her hands was a silver thimble. Blinking she reached up and took it from the fairy. “It’s my thimble…” frantic eyes returned to the glowing fairy, “Is it Peter? Is he ok?” The fairy nodded and tugged on a strand of her hair. “You want me to come back?” again the fairy nodded with a chime and tugged again and Wendy stepped closer to the window sill.

There Wendy stood much like she did when she was younger except there was no Peter to urge her forward. Looking over at her shoulder Wendy looked at her closed door and her family that was beyond it. But before she could think harder about what she was going to do Tinker Bell chimed behind her.

Turning to face outside Wendy gripped the thimble tighter, “Ok let’s go.”

Tinker Bell brightened and circled around Wendy leaving a trail of pixie dust to fade and cling to her. Slowly Wendy’s feet began to lift from the ground and she couldn’t stop the smile that found its way to her lips. “Ok,” Wendy breathed and slowly drifted from her window and into the sky.

Tinker Bell stayed close to her, flying just in front of her like a beacon in the darkness.

It was like she had been flying for years. The memory of _how_ flowed easily back to her that she didn’t have to think about it, like writing the alphabet. Wendy picked up speed and followed Tinker Bell and the happiness she felt welled inside her to the point that Wendy radiated it.

The worry of Peter was still there, shown in how unlike before she did not fly around the city, and instead she flew towards Neverland. Rising high above the chimney tops.

_Second star to the right and straight on till morning…_

They flew higher and higher and the city and soon the world fell away behind them. The stars sparked and brightened as space flew beside them. Wendy couldn’t stop a joyous laugh bubble up and Tinker Bell flew beside her and chimed happily.

Then they broke through into a morning grey and soft pink tinted clouds. Wendy gasped lightly as Neverland finally came into view.

Four years could change you but Wendy was reminded that Neverland never changed.

Wendy slowed and came to a halt, hovering above the still ocean. Neverland never changed, Peter Pan the boy who never grew up. What if he had forgotten her?

She floated there, he would be a boy and she was many years older now – a young lady. Tinker Bell came up into her view, her lovely face in a slight frown and chimed at her. Wendy looked at her hand and felt the thimble gripped tightly in her hand. She shook her head; Peter Pan would remember her, he would be the same and she would be all right. Tinker Bell had come to get her, Peter needed her. With a smile she let the joy of coming back to Neverland fill her and she flew onwards.

Tinker Bell led her over the ocean as morning rays broke through the grey. They rose higher and it felt like Neverland was welcoming her back as the sun woke the island. They flew to the right avoiding the cove that belonged to the pirates then they swooped lower. Tinker Bell chimed and together they flew lower over tree tops and deeper into the island.

Swooping up a small cliff and twirling higher into the air, Wendy paused and looked around the forest tree tops. Tinker Bell chimed drawing her attention back and then that was when it caught her attention. She wouldn’t have noticed the top of a tree house if Tinker Bell had not been pointing at it.

Now that Wendy had seen it she wondered how she could have missed the large roof and the smaller ones surrounding it. The morning light shone brightly now warming Neverland and Wendy was glad for the lightly weight night gown. Tinker Bell sounded again and they took off towards the hidden tree houses.


	2. Lost Boys

There was movement sounding somewhere as Wendy softly landed. The tree house expanded over many trees, their platforms circling trunks and bridges and ladders linked the many houses and platforms. Wendy stood quietly on the wooden floor feeling a little lost in the tree top castle.

Tinker Bell chimed and Wendy followed across the platform, when the fairy disappeared over the edge Wendy leaned slightly to glance down. There on the platform below, linked by a roped ladder was a table surrounded by boys. They were all talking animatedly, eating fruit and occasionally something flew across the table.

But as Wendy scanned the crowd she could not see Peter only the Lost Boys and unlike before they weren’t young like the original Lost Boy that were now her brothers. There were a few older ones nearly about her age and then some in the middle and some on the younger end of the scale. Wendy was a little shocked at how their numbers had nearly tripled.

With a deep breath Wendy floated down to the platform and watched as one of the middle boys looked up and stopped mid chew and went wide eyed as he noticed her. He nudged the boy sitting next to him and pointed. Three of the boys noticed her and like a ripple the boys stopped what they were doing to turn and stare at the girl present.

Tinker Bell flew across and wove between the boys stopping at one with a red mohawk and talked with him, he nodded glancing at Wendy the other boys listening in. “He’s with the Indians,” he replied to the fairy and groaned as the fairy continued to chime at him.

“Hello,” she said as she watched the fairy disappear, trying not to let it bother her.

“Tink says you’re Wendy Lady,” the Mohawk boy said as he stood and moves closer and a murmur breaks out over the Lost Boys. “I am,” Wendy looked around, “It’s nic-” she begun before the mohawk boy snapped in, “You are not welcome here! Leave!”

Wendy blinked truly shocked, her smile falling from her face her hand gripping the thimble tghter that was safe in her hand. After a moment’s silence Wendy’s shocked face changed into something stern and serious. “Now you listen here boy,” she snapped marching forward, “I don’t know who you are to tell me what to do but I am here to see Peter and by Hook’s treasure that is what I will do!”

She was standing in front of the slightly taller boy now, a displeased frown on her face, her shoulders back and fists by her sides. The boy blinked in shock at the angry girl in front of him. “Furthermore,” Wendy continued, “That is no way to speak to a lady!”  A couple of boys at the table sniggered at that earned a sharp look from the older boy.

The pair stood there in an awkward standoff before Tinker Bell flew up beside them and chimed away. Mohawk boy frowned slightly before giving a deep sigh, “Fine.” He turned to Wendy, “Tink says we should take you to the Indian Camp – to Peter.”  
“That would be good,” Wendy said some of the edge leaving her voice, “Thank-you.”

Mohawk boy turned to the table filled with the Lost Boys and shouted, “Men who wants to help lead Wendy Lady to the Indian Camp?” Every hand shot up like a rocket and Wendy giggled and smiled at them the last of her anger forgotten.

“All right, Ace and Latchboy you got the job.” Hands and shoulders fell, but one remained up determinedly and the Red Mohawk boy frowned and locked eyes with the small boy. With another sigh and a small smile as he gave up to the small boy, “Fine you too Pockets.”

The three boys clambered from the table to stand in line in front of the leader. “Men take Wendy Lady to the Indian Camp.” The boys saluted and with a nod the Mohawk boy left with a small huff and without a glace back. As soon as his back was turned the boys rushed forward to meet Wendy, surrounding her in much the manner her brothers had once done.

They each took a turn to introduce themselves. Ace was the eldest and with that the tallest, with scruffy blond hair that flicked out from under a top hat. A bandanna tided around his neck gave him the impression of a cowboy. Latchboy was all red curls, freckles and chubby cheeks in a big coat. He had a grin to match that spread from ear to ear. Finally Pockets was a small boy – very young – his black hair in tight curls against his head and his dark skin clean; probably cleaner than most of the Lost Boys. He had big dark brown eyes and gripped his striped shirt. Wendy’s heart melted at his toothy grin.

~*~*~

The boys lead her down a long rope ladder that they had to drop from the platform to create the exit. The fairy dust had long worn off and at first the ricketiness of the wooden planks and rope made Wendy nervous with fear. But as she descended and got the hang of the movement she was laughing with the boys by the time her feet touched the forest floor.

Pockets stuck close to Wendy not speaking much as Latchboy and Ace as they raced ahead talking away; and once she was satisfied the boys were leading Wendy to the Indian village Tinker Bell flew off and disappeared.

They had been walking for the awhile and the morning had warmed up. “How far is the village?” Wendy asked, breathing in the air that had a distinctly warm smell, almost sweet, it smelled of summer. “Awhile yet,” Latchboy said, “Me thinks before Lunch.”

“I didn’t think it was this far before,” Wendy laughed, “but that’s probably because I flew there.” Once the words had finished she saw all boys staring at her with eyes filled with wonder, but alongside of that wonder was a heaviness that filled the air. It was Pockets who spoke up and asked the question.

“What was Peter like when you first come to Neverland?”

At the question Latchboy and Ace fell into step with Wendy, each boy waiting on her response. Wendy frowned, it was a weighted question. It suggested that Peter had changed, but he was Peter Pan the boy who never grew up… Wasn’t he?

“He... He was Peter,” Wendy answered and the boy’s faces were confused. Silence hung in the air disrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the occasional dried leaf.

“Did he really fly all the time?” Ace asked quietly as if he would get in trouble for asking. Blinking Wendy halted in her tracks, “Of course he did. He flew everywhere,” he stomach dropped and Wendy gripped the thimble that hung over her breasts, “He doesn’t now?”

The three boys shocked their heads, “He doesn’t fly much anymore,” Ace mumbled.

“Oh god,” Wendy whispered and she truly felt sick, Peter wasn’t flying. “Is that why Tinker Bell came to get me?” she mumbled voice thick.  The boys around her shrugged and looked at the ground. Seeing the silence weigh the boy’s shoulders down Wendy clapped her hands, “Well then we best hurry up and get to the camp!” With the cheery smile on her face the boy’s spirits lifted and they continued walking through the forest.

The walk went by with games and while sometimes Latchboy and Ace raced on ahead, Pockets stuck close. The forest’s trees were tall and light flickered through the canopy and soon the sun shone brightly in the sky overhead.

They all ran down a slope each of them trying to skid on the leaves that littered the ground, trying to get the longest distance on a single slide. Latchboy was by far the most skilled at keeping his balance.

The tree’s thinned down the slope but had thickened when the land flattened out again. When Aces pulled a pouch from his belt and pulled a stopper from the top. The water skin travelled round the group and Wendy was grateful for the water, not realising how thirsty the long trek had made her. It was now when they had stopped for water and a moment to catch their breath that a group of Indians strayed into their path.

For a split second, Wendy felt a small wave alarm rise inside her but it was immediately deactivated and filled with excitement when her three escorts busted into Indian calls; running to greet the other group.

Wendy stood and followed the boys and gasped when she saw the two deer that hung from their hoofs on sticks. From several puncture wounds blood dribbled down. It was a hunting party.

While Wendy was shocked at the deer they had caught the Lost Boys weren’t fazed by the dead deers. For a moment she worried about exposing the children to dead animals but then the hunting party began to move and Aces called, “Come Wendy Lady, they are heading back to the village.” He took her by her hand and introduced her to the party as they steadily trekked on. 


	3. TigerLilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this reads alright, dialogue nearly kills me every time. I hope you readers are enjoying this and enjoy this chapter.

_Tiger Lily_

The Indian camp was bustling with daily chores as they walked into camp. The Lost Boys skittered into camp crowing loud to announce themselves; the butterflies that had been forming in Wendy’s stomach took flight in overdrive.  
But Wendy stared at the camp and much like the boys and their tree house the Indian’s size had grown. A group of young children ran out to greet Latchboy, Ace and Pockets. The hunters made their way to the centre of the camp with the deer. A large fire pit lay in the centre of camp and Wendy remembered dancing around it during her childhood visit.  
Glancing over her shoulder at the dense forest she knew the fairy’s tree that was in its direction. The memory of dancing with Peter in the air surfaced in her mind and she turned away quickly an embarrassed flushed tinting her cheeks.

When she turned back there was a grinning face in her view. It was a girl her age, with shining brown eyes and long black hair that fell in a thick waterfall. A vivid blue hand print marked her face – smudged with the days passed and a patterned bandana with feathers braided into her hair giving away her identity.  
“Tiger Lilly,” Wendy breathed and she smiled, then did something Wendy honestly was not expecting. Tiger Lilly wrapped her arms around her neck and said, “Welcome back Wendy Lady.”  
Wendy was stood shocked and as Tiger Lilly embraced her Wendy looked a little like a penguin before she stiffly patted Tiger Lilly on the back. Tiger Lilly took a step back grinning, “I did not believe at first that Wendy Lady had returned to Neverland,” she said accent thick, “But here you are.”

Blinking Wendy smiled back, “Tinker Bell came and got me; I was shocked too.” Tiger Lilly nodded and looped her arm around Wendy’s and lead her deeper into the camp. “Either way you are welcome back,” Tiger Lilly led her past the huts and where the Lost Boys played with the younger children, dancing around, they waved as the girls walked past.  
“The village has grown so much,” Wendy commented as a woman bounced a baby in her arms.  
“Yes much has changed,” Tiger Lilly agreed and there was a sombre note to her voice and with piercing eyes she turned too looked at Wendy, “since your visit.”  
It wasn’t an accusing look, just a statement, a fact that was accepted. They had passed the center and were on the other side of the village that stood just away from the sharp cliff face that the village lined. Tiger Lilly escorted Wendy to a log and they sat down and faced the stunning view.

To the left Wendy could see the coast line of the main island. It stretched and wrapped away into the distance, she could almost make out Pirate Cove. In front of her stretched the ocean and many smaller islands that were like decorations all around Neverland’s coast line.  
Tiger Lilly sat next to Wendy and brushed her black hair over her shoulder eyes cast over the water. “When did you learn English?” Wendy asked.  
Tiger Lilly smiled, “We knew a little before but many of us learnt English more when the Lost Boys and Pirate’s grew in numbers.”  
“Is that when Neverland began to… change?”  
A silence fell between them, “You noticed?” was Tiger Lilly’s simple responded.  
Wendy went wide eyed, “Of course I have? How could I not! Not only has the Lost Boys grown in numbers – they’re almost as old as I am,” Wendy took a deep breath in and with words said it sent a knife of worry plunging into her stomach for the first time as she fully took a moment for it to set in, “they aren’t kids.”  
Tiger Lilly gave a small, knowing smile that made Wendy , “No we aren’t children anymore.”  
It was a simple fact and sometimes Wendy thinks about it when she remembered her previous adventure to Neverland or when her Aunt dragged her out to social parties. A soft wind blew over the pair, picking at their stands of hair.

“Peter was supposed to be here,” Wendy says glancing over her shoulder the village bustling away. Tiger Lilly gave a small hum.“Tinker Bell came to get me,” Wendy continued picking at the thimble at her neck.  
“You are worried?” Tiger Lilly asks her brown eyes piercing and eyebrow raised and this time. Wendy nodded, “Why else would Tinker Bell, of all fairies come and get me?” a pause, “The boys said he is not flying anymore.”  
Her eyes were as wide as they were when the boys brought up the subject and Tiger Lilly’s lips were in a small frown, “No not much anymore.” Wendy took a deep gasping breath, “How come?”  
“You already know,” was the Indian’s reply.

 

_All you need to do is think happy thoughts and they fill you up and lift you into the air!_

It was fairy dust and happy thoughts Peter had said when he taught her to fly. She had seen him fall from the sky in a battle with Captain Hook and then after a kiss he had exploded – literally – into the sky.  
‘Oh Peter,’ Wendy’s heart cried and after several minutes of silence, Wendy turned to the beautiful princess and asked voice more confident than what she felt, “Do you know where Peter is?”  
Tiger Lilly broke into a smile, “He was here this morning, then Tinker Bell flew in and he flew off in a very big hurry.”  
“You said he wasn’t flying anymore,” Wendy look confused.  
“I said not often.”  
“Do you know where he went?”  
“I would think to find you.”

Wendy gasped, blinked and then stood, “He would have flown right over us!” She whipped around, leapt over the log and ran. She ran through the village, bare feet kicking up dust, the hem of her nightgown flying around her ankles. Her hair whipped behind her as she raced passed the center of the village the hunters skinning their hunt, her eyes eying the forest’s line.  
The huts fell away slowly one by one and then the few stray eyes that had watched the young lady race through the village watched as she disappeared into the forest.  
Wendy ran following the loose trail that had been treaded into the forest dodging tress and ferns. Everything whipped passed her the leaves snagged in her hair; but her lungs began to burn forcing her feet to slow. With deep breaths she looked around, and pushed her hair from her face. She kept walking slowly working through the burn in her chest.  
It took a minute or two but once the burning subsided Wendy began to notice the hairs on her arm standing on end. She looked over her shoulder and then around the forest – but no one was there.

  
She turned back to face forward and a moment later a small noise behind her, made her turn so fast her that her nightgown raised around her calves. Her eyes roamed the trees and the bushes and then slowly she turned her eyes skyward. At first she saw nothing but then her eyes widened as she picked out a figure on a high branch half obscured by the canopy and the shade.  
“Peter?” Wendy half called out uncertainty and when the figure stepped from the branch and drifted from the branch to the ground Wendy couldn’t help at the wonder and excitement that fluttered into her heart.

Peter landed clearly shocked, a startling expression on his face that made Wendy’s excitement and heart drop.  
Everything about him was familiar; the mouth, the mischievous green eyes, tanned skin and messy, strawberry blond hair. But there were defiantly things that weren’t; like his strong jaw and broad shoulder. But most noticeably was his height, he stood a half a head taller than her now.

Wendy noticed he had aged, grown into a young man, which should have been obvious from his height alone. But there were other details she noticed now; a black earing pierced his ear and a leaf cape fell from his shoulders strung together by a beaded cord across his collar bones with three feathers hanging from one of its nots. He was still very thin but she could see the muscles on his arms and she knew he was strong. He still wore his leaf trousers and a leather belt around his hip but Wendy noticed that a sword had replaced his dagger.

“Hello… Peter,” Wendy said as a wave of self-conscious shyness washed over her.  
“Wendy?” She could hear the question and uncertainty in his voice; it was that of a man deeper but defiantly familiar, it was Peter, just a little older. The young lady smiled and pushed her windswept hair behind her ear and nodded. “Tink came and got me,” a pause, “It’s been awhile.”

Peter nodded and then he grinned something that was purely Peter. “My lady,” he bowed, “Welcome back to Neverland,” he straightened. Wendy’s uncertain smile bloomed into something that resembled the first time that Peter taught her to fly. “It’s lovely to be back,” Wendy grinned and half joked with a perfect curtsy.

They stood for a moment standing there in the forest in silence and with every passing minuet the awkwardness grew between them like a river forming a canyon. It was then that Tiger Lilly trotted in, not out of breath and with a quick sweep of her eyes she smiled softy. With confident steps and shoulder back she approached them – approached Peter.  
“Our Hunters had a very good hunt,” she said to him but out of the corner her eyes she watched Wendy shift her weight slightly, “we wish to invite the Lost Boys to a feast.”  
Peter grinned, “All of us? Are you sure?”

Tiger Lilly’s lovely faces pinched into a playful thoughtfulness and then she smiled and laughed along with Peter’s crowing laugh, “You are all welcome.”  
Feeling terribly small and displaced a scowl had formed on Wendy’s face. It was this expression that Tiger Lilly saw and smiled, “You’re coming too Wendy Lady.” It was then that Wendy’s eyes flickered to Peter who was scratching the back of his head avoiding her eyes and she was suddenly hyper aware of the awkwardness that had bloomed between them. It made her numb.  
“I will go tell the men,” Peter laughed lifting off the ground and with a glance and a nod at Wendy he flew off cape flapping around him. Wendy watched as he flew away and she turned to Tiger Lilly.  
“Come Wendy Lady,” Tiger Lilly said gently grasping Wendy’s soft hand in hers. They were big, warm and ruff from work. The walk back to the village was quite as Wendy was too numb to speak.

~*~*~

Camp bustled with activity preparing the feats to come; the boys had disappeared to return to the hidden tree house. Tiger Lilly gave Wendy work of washing and chopping baskets of fruits into large bowls with some of the other young women. The work and the company were a decent distraction but the chore of fruit cutting was quick to finish.

The women who had kept Wendy company gave kind smiles but were quickly distracted by other things. Seeing a chance Wendy snuck away for some space to think. She followed her feet to the edge of the large camp and found a shaded tree on the edge of the forest.She sank down on the spotted grass, pulling her night gown over her knees and bunching it in her lap. In the late of the afternoon the air was still warm and soon the moon would rise. Wendy gave a sigh and leaned back against the bark of the tree.

Things were so different between them – between her and Peter. Where there once was friendship was now nervous awkwardness; formed by too much change and years passed. But even in the thickness of everything there had been a spark of their friendship. A friendship Wendy felt came easy to them – or at least use to.

Wendy watched the clouds drift slowly through the sky and enjoyed thinking about Neverland. She had to see the mermaids again and the fairy tree while she was still here. She even wanted to see the pirate ship and Hook again but maybe just through a spyglass.

It didn’t startle her when Tiger Lilly sat down next to her. “Are you ok Wendy Lady?” she asked and Wendy suspected the answer was obvious. Without looking at the Indian Princess Wendy simply said, “I am just confused.” Wendy paused to think and put her words in order. “I guess… I’m a little lost on why Tinker Bell came and got me, I don’t know what she wants me to do.” Wendy watched Tiger Lilly rise a questioning eyebrow and she re adjusted herself. “I mean I love that I am back but… I am no longer a child and,” a pause, “I always felt that I would never come back.”  
“Things have changed much in Neverland,” Tiger Lilly said simply as if it explained everything  
“That’s another thing that I don’t understand,” Wendy said interrupting but blinked away frustrated tears, “is that why she came and got me because of the way Neverland was changing.”  
Tiger Lilly smiled and pattered her knee and shock her head, “I do not think so,” and Wendy frowned slightly. “But Neverland has changed so much!” Wendy exclaimed.  
“Change can be a good thing,” Tiger Lilly said, “Change is needed to grow.”  
“Then why?” Wendy stared at the princess who seemed to be withholding the answers she wanted. “You say change is good but the Lost Boys say that he isn’t flying and he wouldn’t – we couldn’t talk to each other before!” Wendy’s voice did not catch or shutter, it flowed from her in a strong rush. Tiger Lilly smiled at her, “Yes all these things are true,” and she pattered Wendy’s knee until she calmed down.

“Did you think that Peter might have been shocked to see you?” Tiger Lilly suggested watching as Wendy turned her head on hunched shoulders, “That maybe he was nervous?”  
Wendy blinked, “But he’s Peter… he’s isn’t afraid of anything!” Tiger Lilly raised an eyebrow and gave a look that other girls often got when they thought Wendy wasn’t realizing the obvious.  
Wendy swallowed thickly, “Why would he be nervous to see me?” Tiger Lilly smiled and gave a gentle roll of her eyes, “He is a young man and you a young lady,” she explained and Wendy’s eye brows shot into up. “Also,” Tiger Lilly continued, hooking a finger around the leather cord around the London girl’s neck and pulling the thimble out over her nightgown, “You gave him a kiss.” With a smile, that Wendy had an embarrassed feeling she wasn’t only talking about the thimble, Tiger Lilly briefly put a warm hand on her shoulder and left Wendy alone with her thoughts.

Wendy sat, face flushed pink as she watched Tiger Lilly disappear back into the camp. Picking up the thimble and turning it in her fingers, Wendy wondered if it was possible that what Tiger Lilly was suggesting could be true. Blinking she turned to look back out across the sky, she had always had feelings for Peter, ever since she was a kid and first came to Neverland. He had taught her to fly, taken her on an epic (if not dangerous) adventure and most of the time was absolute charming.

But did Peter find her pretty? They had danced after he had shown her the fairy tree and she had given him a kiss, which he was defiantly happy about if bursting into the sky was anything to go by. But any boy would be happy for a kiss? That is what her Aunt had said anyway, “Any boy would enjoy a kiss from a pretty lady such as yourself Wendy. That’s why you have to be careful around them.”  
Wendy gave a deep sigh drawing her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head on her knees. Her thoughts flittered from her Aunt to her Father – Arthur Darling. He hadn’t changed that much over the years. After she, her brothers and all her new brothers had returned from their time away from home he had relaxed. While he was still sometimes stern and had a temper and cared very much for his children he never forced Wendy or her brothers to do anything they didn’t want – though he defiantly did voice his opinions on matters and pushed a little. Wendy’s thought drifted to her mother Angela Darling, who was a kind woman who loved her father and often soothed his anger. She explained the world with wisdom and loved her children and encouraged them. Wendy loved her mother and she smiled at how every year she got a pen from her– to help with Wendy’s dream of becoming a novelist. It dawned on Wendy that she had not picked up a pen in a while.

The sun was setting now dying the sky in warm colours, it was then that Wendy stood on her feet dusting off the dirt and grass that stuck to her best she could. The village had a quite hum to it when she returned. Children played in the dust as the woman sat in the shade weaving and talking. A group was minding the food that was cooking on many large fires.  
Tiger Lilly had smiled when she returned. “Feeling better?” she asked and Wendy smiled and nodded and surprisingly she meant it – she may have not been 100% better but she did feel better. Tiger Lilly beamed and that was when from the forest path emerged the troop of lost boys.

Peter lead them grinning his grin as they entered they fanned out and crowing their entrance as children raced to greet them. Wendy watched as the Chief walked over, still very big and a headdress of feathers and very much the same as Wendy remembered the only addition was a few grey hairs on his head, to greet Peter and a few of the older kids that followed him.  
Wendy was at a loss of what to do. Did she get up and greet Peter too? Stay where she was sitting? But Aces, Latchboy and Pockets races up to greet her with a bunch of the younger ones drawing her attention away from Peter who was being led by the Chief into camp.

“What did you?” Aces asked gripping her bicep lightly; Wendy looked at him confused.  
“Peter flew into Camp today!” Latchboy gaped  
“Yeah like a bird,” it was a younger kid by her knees who gapped throwing his arms into her air and the other two that had tagged along with the three boys agreed in unison. Wendy smiled at them and chuckled lightly.  
“Boys come on in!” called one of the ladies waving them into the circle of tents.  
The boys half dragged Wendy (who smiled and laughed) into camp. The Indians and the rest of the Lost Boys had gathered in the centre of camp where the food filled the air with the smell of cooking meat.  
They had formed a loose ring around the three fire pits, gathering together in small pockets with a few pots of brightly coloured paints and painting different marks on each other’s faces.  
“Wendy!” Tiger Lilly called and waved and the boys scattered to various groups and Wendy made her way to the Indian princess.  
“What is going on?” Wendy asked wide eyed and smiling.  
“It is tradition to paint and dance before feast,” Tiger Lilly said handing a small pot of vivid blue paint in Wendy’s hand. Wendy blinked, “I don’t know how to paint,” she said. Tiger Lilly grinned, “It is the act of trust and a good village is built partly of trust. Two strokes should be fine.”  
“Who am I to paint?” Wendy asked.  
“The people that you know,” Tiger Lilly almost laughed. Then as if on cue her three escorts came bounding to her, between the three of them they had stripes on their arms and on their faces and feather bandanas.

Laughing she kneeled down. “Would you mind?” Wendy asked? Gesturing with the pot of paint and the boys grinned, “Of course Wendy Lady,” Patches said bowing. Dipping her fingers into the bright paint Wendy painted marks on the boys that she had come to know in the past day. On Aces she added a single line under the already painted line under each eye. Latch Boy got two going down each forearm and Patches got a thick line from his forehead to the tip of his nose. It was Latch Boy that dipped his finger in the paint and painted a ring around Wendy’s arm. With thanks (and a hug for Patches) the boys ran off to join the gathering that was starting around the main fire pit.

“Wendy,” it was Peter and she turned to face him. It was still startling to see the changes time had done to him but she smiled at him, “Peter,” she greeted. Wendy could feel the awkward tension filling the air between them. “May I?” Wendy asked holding the paint pot and Peter nodded.

Stepping closer she could smell the ocean and freedom on him, the slight smell of sweat and dirt. “Where is Tinker Bell?” Wendy asked dipping her two fingers into the paint pot.  
“She’s around somewhere,” he replied watching her.  
“She doesn’t like the Indian Camp much does she?” Wendy lifted her hand  
“Not really.”

His cheek was smooth when her finger tips meet the side of it. While it was a quick motion a simple diagonal stroke downwards but somehow it seemed longer than it was. Wendy watched her hand create the two blue lines on his tanned skin and her heart rapidly fluttered in her chest.  
“There,” she grinned at him.  
“My turn,” he said smoothly and it made her suddenly constricted. He swept his thumb into the paint with a quick movement around the edge. Wendy couldn’t help but follow his hand as he quickly raised it to her check. All she could see was his wrist and feel his thumb drag under her eye following her cheek bone; she felt her face flush with heat. Then suddenly it was over. She was faintly aware of the drums that had started up in the camp.

Peter had turned to it, “The feast has begun we should join them,” and without another word he began walking towards the drums. Wendy stood there for a moment dazed before following after Peter who had put quite a bit of distance between them and was blending into the crowd that had began dancing around in a circles around the fire pits.  
It was Tiger Lilly who swept Wendy into a circle; grabbing her hand and dragging her into the fray. It was all about dancing to the beat, clapping your hand and stomping your feet, the moved in time with each other and soon puffed for breath Wendy slipped from the circle a smile on her face. She was hot and needed to sit down and spying Peter, the Lost Boy with the Mohawk and a Lost boy with ratty brown hair and she made her way over; steps confident.

It wasn’t until she was close that Peter looked up and prominently turns his head in the other direction, stands and walks off. Wendy stopped shock written on her face and stares as he walks off in the other direction. Her steeps are less confident as she walks closer to the two boys remaining on the log.  
She’s still looking in the direction of where Peter had disappeared into when she stops beside the log and anger flared within her. “Where did he go?” she asks the boys who are staring at her.  
“Dunno,” mumbles the blond while Mohawk just shrugs; a lie.

“Do you know why he is upset then?” she nearly demands and it was the same response. That was all it took for her to put a hand on her hip and with the other pointed accusingly at them. “Now stop being immature boys and tell me where he went to right now.” It was the tone of a mother, a role Wendy came easy to her. Mohawk frowned and tensed – obviously someone who didn’t like being told off, but it had the desired effect on the blond who hung his head in shame with hunched shoulders, “He probably went to see Tanahi, on the other side of the pit by the spit roast milady,” he mumbled and then yelped when the Mohawk boy elbowed him in the side. “Thank you,” Wendy said and turned on her heel and walked off in the direction Peter went.

She didn’t get far when a hand fell upon her elbow halting her, it was Mohawk a stern frown upon his face. “Lady Wendy,” he said gruffly, “Stop.” If he didn’t like being told to do, Wendy certainly did not. “Leave him be,” it was the tone of a concerned friend and that was the only thing that saved him from her anger. Wendy paused before she answered, “No. I’m sorry but I can’t.” Mohawk opened his mouth but Wendy stopped him, “I can hear that you care. But I do too, Tinker Bell came and got me for a reason and I will find out why.”  
Mohawk’s hand feel from her elbow and he stared at her face thinking and gauging, and with a heavy sigh he gave in, it was like he visibly shrunk slightly next to her, “Peter is avoiding you, so I would try and get to him quickly.” With that he turned and went back to the log.

It took longer to find Peter as he wasn’t by the roasting deer, where many were beginning to gather to check how cooked it was, but she managed to glimpse a leaf cape and followed after it. Wendy was about to give up when she saw him leaning against a tree watching the dancing and the crowd.  
It only took her a moment to decide to sneak in behind him, scared that if he saw her again he would fly off. Her plan walked and she was able to walk up beside him, “Peter,” she said a slightly stern tone in her voice but her hand gentle as she placed it on his bicep. She felt him stiffen slightly but he turned to her. “Wendy,” he said a smile to his face. She raised an eyebrow at him as he shifted placing his back to the tree to face her.

“You really have changed a lot,” was his comment, and Wendy twined her hands behind her back. “I’ve grown up yes,” she paused, “and so have you.”  
He hummed, “Perhaps.”  
A pause and the drums slowed.  
“That was really rude of you before Peter,” Wendy half scolded and out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn his head down slightly but no apology was given; Wendy wasn’t surprised apologising wasn’t very Peter Pan like.

Wendy gave a hefty sigh and pushed her hands through her hair before she suddenly turned on her heels to face Peter. “Peter, what’s wrong?” that made him snap his head up a startled confused face on, “Tinker Bell got me from London Peter,” Wendy explained, “She would-” It was a loud burst of drumming that broke Wendy from her talk and she looked over her shoulder to see people finishing their dancing and getting ready for food. She felt annoyed, and looking around she knew where she was so she grabbed his hand and dragged him off into the forest.  
For a moment she thought she’d gotten it wrong but as a sparking ball shot past her she knew she was going in the right direction. In the distance she could see the fairy tree glowing faintly, balls of light flying in and occasionally out. Wendy slowed and stopped not wanting to go to close, this was private she turned back to Peter letting go of his hand. Wendy instantly noticed the lack of warmth.  
“Where was I,” Wendy murmured, “Tinker Bell got me from London; she wouldn’t do that unless it was important!” Wendy watched Peter watching her and he gave out bending and arm up to scruff up his hair, “I really don’t know.”  
“The Lost Boys are saying you aren’t flying much anymore,” Wendy promoted.  
“Well they lied,” Peter suggested  
Wendy huffed, “You would not lead a band of liars Peter; so don’t you dare lie to me.” It was Peter’s turn to huff now. “Why don’t you tell me why your,” Wendy gestured widely at him, he raised an eyebrow, “Peter why have you aged? You weren’t supposed to grown up,” it flowed from her now a wave of worry and surprise, “You’ve changed so much! Since when did you carry a sword?”

Wendy stared at him wide eyed, waiting for a response.  
“All children grow up,” was his elevated reply  
“All except one!” Wendy exploded, “What happened?”  
“You!” he yelled back and Wendy flinched backwards slightly, “You’re what happened!”  
“Wha-?”  
“You left Wendy! You left with the Lost Boys. You left me Wendy! You were supposed to stay but you left!” he angrily pushed a hand through his hair nostrils flaring.  
“Peter,” her voice was small and soft her finger tips stained blue from paint touched lightly on his arm before he jumped back feet no longer on the ground. He glared at her eyes blazing with confusion and anger, his checked flushed in the darkness and then he flew off.  
“Peter!” Wendy yelled and attempted to follow on foot. She tried to lift herself into the air to fly after him but the pixie dust had worn off. But she couldn’t stop she blundered through the forest leaving the camp and the pixie tree behind it got darker as she went onwards, yelling Peter’s name.

It was a horrible surprise when her foot slid on the undergrowth and she was suddenly tumbling down a hill. When Wendy finally stopped on her back, she laid still, tears falling down her face, bruised and guilt clawing at her heart.


	4. Hook

When her breathing calmed, Wendy stood testing her limbs out she was glad to find she was only bruised. Looking around the dark forest illuminated by the full moon that was much closer here than in London she knew she was lost.

Wendy started walking, “Peter?” she yelled then she called out “Lost Boys!? Tiger Lilly!?” She paused leaning against a tree she rubbed her eye pushing back the tears that were threating to fall again. How could everything have gone so wrong?

Wendy was so distracted that she didn’t notice until it was too late. Yellow light flooded around her and when she looked up there, in a red coat and a sharp, twisted, grin, was Captain Hook. His pirates were lumbering behind him, metal glinting of the lamps they held.

“Well, well, well,” Hook cooed, making Wendy stand rigidly straight, “men it seems the rumours are true, Wendy has returned to Neverland.” The band of pirates chuckled at that and it made Wendy’s skin crawl.

Hook came closer but she didn’t dare shrink back she could see him clearly now. While the red coat was very much the same, he had aged like everyone else. Wrinkles decorated his face at the corner of his mouth and eyes, grey had made its way into his hair, he looked much older than before.  
“Why haven’t you grown,” he said, “blossomed into such a pretty flower,” he chuckled and his pirates followed.

She suppressed a shiver from showing that ran all the way down her spine at the comment, “And you’ve gotten old,” she bit back, Hook sneered at her his whole body flexing and Wendy thought he was going to hit her, but he relaxed after a moment though something still flared in his eyes.

 “The last time I saw you, you were disappearing down the crocodile’s throat,” Wendy remarked. That made Hook raise an eyebrow, “I suppose you did,” he replied, “funny thing this hook,” he held it up, its double edges, razor sharp, glinted in the lamp light, “Came in handy when I gutted the beast from the inside out when it swallowed me whole,” he was sneering, filled with arrogance and pride.

But his attention was diverted for long and his cold eyes turned back to Wendy and this time she stood back. “Now Wendy, why don’t you come with me,” he asked his voice a perfect gentlemen; it was the voice he had use to woo her as a child – to make her indulge in her Red-Handed Jill fantasy.  “Over my dead body,” Wendy snapped and stumbling backwards, “I’m not a child anymore and I won’t be fooled by you again!”  
His grin turned wicked, “Killing you is a bit extreme don’t you think, you’re coming with us girl you can walk or we will drag you, it’s up to you.”

It only took a second but Wendy turned as fast as she could ready to take off. “Peter!” she screamed, but one of Hook’s men had come up beside her while her attention was on Hook and a big meaty hand, ruff from the ropes, clamped upon her arm and hauled her in close so he could get her in a bear hug. “Peter,” she screamed again kicking to get loose. Wendy screamed some more, yelling Peters name as another pirate came up binding her ankles and then her wrists. Once she was nothing but a wiggling worm they threw her over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Wendy struggled and squirmed until the bindings chaffed her skin red and screamed and called for Peter until her voice went horse and she gave up throat raw.

They trekked through the forest, when they reached the beach she was dumped into a dingy and she sat there as they rowed their way across the black, wavy water. On the horizon Wendy could see a pirate ship. Her eyes drifted from the boat to the skies hoping to see a shadow or a clue that Peter was coming.

But there was no shadow or glowing ball of light and Wendy turned back to Hook who sat across from her who was polishing the back side of his hook with a rag, “You sit like a lady,” he commented a vindicated smug voice, “You really are all grown up now.”

Wendy clenched her jaw but it was true she sat proper, with shoulders back, feet together, hands folded in her lap her head held high. She turned her head refusing to converse with the red coated pirate.  

He chuckled at her stubbornness and the dingy gave a violent heave in the waves. Hook and the few other pirates aboard rolled easily with motion due to years spent on the ocean. Wendy on the other hand jostled in the motion and was thrown off the low bench, banging her knee against the faded wood. The pirate beside her that was rowing gave a chuckle at her pained gasp; she would diffidently have a bruise there later.

She wiggled against to lean against the side and didn’t attempt at getting back to the seat and stayed huddled between the benches and dirty boots. They jousted in the waves a little longer and the moon began to slink a little in the dark sky.

Wendy was half asleep when they came up beside the ship and was unbound only to be shoved up a rickety rope ladder and onto the deck of the ship. She couldn’t tell if it was the Jolly Roger or a new ship Wendy rubbed at her wrists and stood tense on the deck. A cool, sea breeze fluttered over her and she enjoyed it against the warm air.

But her tense peace was interrupted by a big hand on her shoulder. It was Hook, “This way Wendy,” and a strong grip he led her across the deck. “Where are you leading me?” Hook let out a barking laugh and led her down the narrow stairs, “To the holding cells.”

Wendy halted or tried to but he just shoved her forward as they descended down some narrow steps. When Wendy resisted again at the cell’s iron doors Hook gave her a shove that didn’t move her past the doors. Hook looked down his long nose at her, “Wendy you’re not a child anymore,” he said it wicked edge to his voice, when Wendy turned confused. The wicked edge in his voice translated into a wicked grin, something sick and sinister, “You’re a young lady now Wendy on a ship full of a Pirates.” Wendy’s eyes went wide with the understanding, her throat closing up. Hook sneering gave a gentle push on her shoulder and Wendy stumbled back nearly losing her balance. With a laugh he slammed the door shut, locking it and walked away leaving an oil lamp to burning low on a hook.

Wendy stood for a moment in the darkness of the hull and listening to the creak of the wood as it slowly rocked in the waves. She shivered a creeping chill seeping into her skin, finding the corner she sat down curling up. She didn’t want to cry even though her eyes burned. Peter had flown off, yet again and Hook had captured her yet again, she was tired and sore and her emotional nerves were frayed. It wasn’t long till exhaustion swept over her and Wendy fell into a dreamless sleep.

It was a rattling and a nasally voice was calling her awake, “Girly, up you get!” Sleep muddled her brain and Wendy rubbed her eyes and through the sleepy haze she saw a wrinkled, old man, a white beared bush and dry a big red nose. “Smee?” Wendy asked standing, waking up. The old man turned faded eyes upon and grinned, “Remember me do you Girly,” he laughed and the cage door slid open, “Now come on.”

But Wendy stayed still, “Where are we going?” she demanded and Smee grumbled and half waddled half walked into the cage and grabbed her arm, “We’re going into town,” he said, dragging her out.  Smee led her back up the narrow stairs and onto the deck – the light blinding Wendy.

She stumbled alongside Smee, her eye adjusting to the light of the day. Looking around the crew was working hard some in the riggings, others on deck. Smee led her to the raised back deck of the ship, where Hook stood.

“Ah Wendy,” he said, “Glad you could join us.”  
“Well I didn’t have much choice now did I,” Wendy snarked back, pulling her arm out of Smee’s thick fingers. Wendy watched as the crew collapsed the sails and then listened as the sound as the anchor fell into the ocean.  

Frowning Wendy looked around noticing they were in a cove and her breath hitched, they had set anchor in Pirate’s cove. They were close anchored in the safety of the harbour; Wendy could make out the ramshackle of houses, but what made her mouth open and gape was the docks with a handful of ships docked there.

Hook grabbed her arm and led a stunned Wendy back into the dingy. “How did you build all this?” Wendy gasped as they began to row towards the town. “Well without that pesky crocodile up that creek and with the additional men appearing and all that, we were able to build us a right little town,” it was Smee laughing at the end.    
“Men appearing?’ she asked confused.  
Smee nodded, “Ships been appearing on the ocean, out of the blue, but there they were. They say they were lost at sea or running from something or another and then they were just here.”  Wendy’s eyes widened, Neverland was rescuing lost ships like it did with lost boys? She was reluctant to ask but she did anyway, “Has that always happened?”    
Smee shock his head, “Wasn’t the normal no; started happening round the last tim-”  
“Smee,” Hook growled, cutting Smee off who apologised in much the same manner that always did. 

Wendy turned to look at the horizon and while the rest of Smee’s words were unspoken she knew what he was going to say: _the last time you were here_.

The dingy pull up against one the docks. It was then that Wendy saw that the ships that were docked weren’t seas worthy. The ones in the water had run ground and giant logs helped prop the ship straight. As she was ushered onto the low dock Wendy could see that many of the ships had holes blown in their hulls gang planks from the shore.

They shore as Wendy found out as they walked across the hazard wooden deck was scarcely sand and turned into dusty, solid dirt.

Wendy looked around wide eyed as the decks lined tilting ships that had been dragged from the beach’s cove. Gangplanks and rope bridges linked various decks and ships. Oil lamps were hung like lanterns and scruffy pirates were asleep in various places, others moving around the place but they stepped out of the way for Hook and his crew as they passed them.

But when her eyes swept over the centre Wendy stopped short. There supported by a ruff frame, stuffed standing high was the crocodile. Its stomach held a gash, roughly stitched together evidence of Hook’s escape, in its gapping jaws was a clock, ticking away. A shove at her shoulder pushed her forward and she followed Hook and his crew into the largest ship just off the centre of the loosely strung together decks and ships.

Inside smelled faintly of ale and the light streaming through the windows caught the dust mites as they drifted in the air; looking around a few men asleep on tables (and one under) but other than that the ship was empty. Hook led her to the bar where a young, tidy man was washing glasses behind the thick bench.

Hook pushed her at a stool, “Don’t go anywhere Wendy,” he said and turned his gleaming eyes towards the bartender, “Make sure of it,” he instructed and Hook disappeared up the narrow stairs. Huffing Wendy pushed her hair back from her face and slid onto the stool, trying to escape a town full of pirates would be beyond stupid.

“You wouldn’t happen to be the Wendy?” the bartender asked and Wendy turned to him, eyeing him suspiciously, “Why would it matter?” she asked him. He laughed, something young and genuine, he really was a handsome young fellow with stubble and scruffy light brown hair, and vivid blue eyes. “You’re almost famous here,” he laughed “I’m Edward,” and in front of her placed a tall glass of water.

With it in front of her Wendy realised how thirsty she was and her stomach growled and she couldn’t help the blush that rose to her checks. Edward laughed at that and then produced a loaf of bread and a small bottle of jam, “Here eat this.”

Wendy looked up from the rip of her glass at him and set it down next to the plate of bread. “Why are you being so nice? Your,” she paused and he raised an eyebrow, “You’re a pirate!” He laughed at her for that and picked up the glass he was cleaning. “I suppose I am now, but before Neverland I was on a deck hand on a cargo ship.”

Wendy’s eyes lightened with interest. “Eat,” Edward said gesturing to the plate of bread and Wendy picked up the knife and began to cut herself a slice, “So how did you get to Neverland then?” she asked spreading the lumpy berry jam on the bread. Edward hummed reaching for another glass, “I’ll make you a deal you tell me how you got to Neverland and I’ll tell you how I did.” Wendy hummed around the bite of toast in her mouth, “I thought you said I was famous – if so wouldn’t you already know?”  
“Best to hear things from the source is what I was always say,” he explains setting another glass down and picking up another. Wendy sips her water, thinking it through, “Well Peter obviously,” Wendy says taking another bite from her bread.

Edward laughs, “Obviously but how?”  
Wendy frowns and he waits for her to finish her bite, “Peter. Took me by the hand and flew me to Neverland.”  

Edward stops what he’s doing, “Peter Pan can fly between London and Neverland?” Wendy nearly chokes on her bite and guilt swept into her stomach, feeling as if she’s exposed a big secret that she wasn’t meant to.  Hoping to change the subject Wendy quickly asked, “So how did you get Neverland.”

Edward grinded his jaw together but with a sigh he continued, “I was on a cargo ship and we were attacked by some pirates,” Wendy’s eyes went wide, “The ship had holes and a fire had broken loose on the top deck. So the ship was sinking so we had to jump the ship. So I jumped and went under and when I broke the surface we were off shore from this island.”

Wendy was still, frozen with amazement from the story but Edward had fallen silent. “How long have you been here?” she asked attentively. Edward looked at her and his eyes were dark with sadness, “Nearly three years now… I think it’s hard to tell.” He turns back to his cups and Wendy sips her water.

“Did you leave someone… back… back at home?” Wendy asked in a small voice wondering if she was over stepping her boundaries.  Wendy watched as he sets down another glass and picks up the last one and polishing it, he didn’t have to answer for her to know that he had and that he wanted to go home.

It made her heart ache. Neverland was a magical, fantastic place but only if you wanted to stay. Wendy remembered the feeling when she remembered her home in London, her parents and the ache of missing them had called her home.

Edward turned to ask her something but it was then that Hook clambered down the stair case boots thumping against the wood. “Come on Wendy we have somewhere to be,” he called. Wendy quickly gulped down the rest of the water and grabbed the rest of her thick slice of bread as he walked past. Hook didn’t grab her shoulder but Wendy did follow flanked by the two crew men.

Instead of heading somewhere else Hook led them back the way they came, past the sleeping men and across the rickety decks and back to the dinghy. Back at the ship Wendy was expected to be locked back up in the cell but Hook took her to the captain’s cabin.

She stood straight in front of the beautiful mahogany crowded with papers, vials, jewels, cups, gold coins and an all manner of pirate thing. Hook slid into the big chair behind it swishing his coat as he went.

He shuffled some papers on his desk before turning to Wendy.

“Word is being sent to the Indians of your capture,” he explained in a smooth voice. Wendy swallowed, “and by that you mean Peter,” she remarked and he smirked.  
“Yes, to Peter Pan,” Hook spits the name out with venom.  
“You’re planning a trap then,” Wendy says her voice flat.  
“Of course,” Hook almost purrs, smug filled and cunning. Everything about Hook, his coat and black eyes, even his mannerisms turns Wendy’ stomach and sends fearful shivers over her skin.  
“It won’t work,” Wendy says and her voice is passionate because she believes nothing else. Hooks eyes go sharp, “Oh it will,” he says.  
“Because you have me?” Wendy nearly laughs in his face.  
“Of course,” there’s an edge forming in his voice  
“It’ll be just like before! Peter will win and you will lose,” Wendy almost sings and lets a smug smile fill her face. “But it’s different this time,” he says standing slowly his confidence rattling Wendy’s.  
“How?” Wendy tried to keep her voice steady but it broke in the end.    
“Because you’ve been gone for a while Wendy, in those years Peter Pan has grown up,” he said those words with a sick glee, “His boy hood crush had time to grow into love,” Wendy couldn’t help the gasp that fell from her lips and a blush that flushed over her check, “and even better,” Hook breathed coming around the desk, “You left becoming lost love. But now your back,” he brushed her hair back over her shoulder with his hook, “and he’ll be careless.”  
Wendy’s stomach dropped, her face red, “It… It won’t work!” she stammered out.  
“Oh I think it will,” Hook from behind her.  
“It won’t work!” Wendy shouted whipping around in a last a panic.  
“It will,” he sneers at her and grabs her arm and began dragging her out of the cabin, Wendy struggled, “Let me go!” she screamed failing her arm at his grip but Hook just dragged her out into the harsh afternoon sun.

Her feet slipped on the smooth deck and Hook dragged her to the mast. “Smee,” he yelled with a high pitch edge, “Smee get the rope!” immediately Smee jolted up from his spot where he was dozing and began dragging some heavy rope over.

Hook grunted as he shoved Wendy up against the mast with one hand, the strength of the grip would cause more bruises on her arm. Wendy went to push of the mast and break away from it but in one quick movement Hook brought his hook to under her chin. Wide eyed she went rigidly still as Smee quickly wrapped the thick rope around her and the mast, tightly, pinning her.

“Now you just stay here,” Hook said lowering his hook from her chin and Wendy glared at him, straining against the ropes. He walked away but when Wendy opened her mouth to yell at him Smee wrapped a rag around her head stuffing her mouth effectively gagging her.

~*~*~

Wendy spend the day trying to strain and wriggle against the rope until it chafed and her muscles hurt. The sun beat down relentless and Wendy hung her head her hair forming a curtain against it, the day passed in a muggy, sleepy daze.

~*~*~

As soon as the sun turned the sky red, the deck went empty and the ship went quite. This made Wendy wake from her daze and looked around, her shoulders and neck stiff. Slowly alarm built inside her as the skies slowly went darker.

Wendy renewed her struggles against the ropes and began yelling against the gag until she gave up the futile effort. Instead she began watching the sky and she didn’t have to wait long at until she saw a shadow against the dark sky.

Panic rose inside her fighting the exhaustion that was in her bones.

Peter dropped down on the deck, a little way from her, his cape falling behind him his hand on his sword hilt. He took only a moment to look around before his eyes fell onto Wendy.

Wendy saw the moment his precaution went from his eyes – his body. His body went from alarmed and ready to tensely stiff and worried. Wendy was leaned against the ropes and was urgently trying to warn him, to tell him to leave but came that only came out in incoherent, distressed muffles. 

“Wendy!” Peter rushed over on light on his feet; almost floating over. He took a moment to survey the ropes, ignoring Wendy’s muffling. “Hang on I’ll have you out in a second,” he muttered back before steeping back and pulling his sword from his sheath.

In one smooth, strong, sideways arch he brought his sword down against the thick rope; it gave and fell like heavy ribbons, but it didn’t matter because in the split second the blade hit the mast the thick wood exploded just above Wendy’s head.

Wendy half dove half tipped away from the bullet exploding in the wood, splinters raining down. Behind her, over the dull ringing in her ears, she heard the front of the ship exploded with the yelling of the crew members.

She looked for Peter, ripping the tight gag from her mouth; he was flying backwards, inches of the deck, swordless. She only had a moment to see the crew members on the upper deck at the back, only a moment to see that they had pushed Peter Pan backwards, “Peter behind you!” she yelled but it was too late.

He looked at her, worried and made a movement towards her.

But the net dropped and the cannon balls attached banged loudly as it hit the ground pulling peter to the ground.

The crew cheered.

Wendy scrambled up and ran over.  
But someone grabbed her hauling her haling her into thick arms.

Peter grumbled and hunched over to stand.

“I wouldn’t do that boy,” it was Hook standing in front of him sword drawn. Peter looked up fire in his eyes, challenging him and continued moving to get up gaining a little more space, “I’m not afraid of you Old Codfish,” then grinned his grin, “I can take you on.”  
“You can,” Hook said, “But will you?”  
On cue the Pirate who was holding Wendy shoved her towards Hook who caught her wrist and whipped the sword’s edge to her throat. Peter stiffened.

Silence flittered and Hook laughed, “Take him to the cell,” he commanded and several pirates came forward and keeping him bundled in the thick net dragged him away. Peter looked angry, not the childish, stubbornness, anger he had displayed as a boy, but something that looked vengeful and fury filled something that didn’t fit him at all. It made Wendy was to cry.

Hook turned to Wendy, “You thought it wouldn’t work you stupid girl,” he spat his glee evident in his voice. He dragged her to his Capitan’s Cabin and shoved her in the door it was hard enough to make her fall.

Wendy went to scramble to get up but Hook brought the hilt of his sword against her head and Wendy collapsed, unconscious.

~*~*~

It was a small bell sound repeating that made Wendy groan and blink against the soft light. Her head ached dully and her body was stiff. She felt small hands nudging against her check – it was Tinker Bell.

“Tinker Bell,” Wendy breathed and the bells soften like relief but only for a moment before it started again. Slowly Wendy sat up a soft pounding ache on her crown; she brought her hand up and felt sticky, tacky, half dried blood there.

Tinker Bell flew into her view and Wendy looked at her and the fairy nodded. Biting the inside of her mouth Wendy stood, very slowly. Tinker Bell chimed and on her small face there was worry. “I’m ok, I just need a moment,” Wendy said.

Tinker Bell nodded and flew over to Hook’s desk and stood on the rim of a metal jug. Wendy staggered over and peered into the jug and gave it a sniff. She looked at Tinker Bell who gave a gesture to drink and she did. The water was refreshing and helped clear her head and after a moment Wendy stood tall.

“All right she breathed,” and Wendy rolled her shoulders, “Let’s go get Peter.”

She didn’t move straight away taking a moment to think, “I need a weapon,” she muttered and then with confident strides she walked around to look for one. Hook’s cabin was cluttered with stuff, various jewels, bottles and papers.

Quietly she rummaged around opening draws and looking under papers until she found a dagger hidden in a chest of draws to one side. She clutched it in its sheath, in a white knuckled grip and walked over to the door.

She took a deep breath and pushed down against the handle and it didn’t budge. Letting out an angry breath she backed up into the room. “Locked,” she said, it was a thick door no way she could force it open, no point in trying as it would also alarm Hook she was awake.

“How did you get in?” she asked turning to the fairy and Tinker Bell chimed flying over to a slightly ajar window. Coming over she pushed the window open and poked her head out. It was dark and the moon hung low over the water – early morning. Wendy turned to Tinker Bell, “Would you mind terr-” Tinker Bell chimed and in a moment she flew around her showering her in dust and with a smile Wendy couldn’t help her feet lifted from the ground.

She pushed her way through the window into the night’s nicely warm air. Wendy twisted to drift up the back of the ship but Tinker Bell tugged her hair and she crept up, peering over the edge. The deck had pirates but in the early morning they were sleepy with their attention wandered. Slowly Wendy drifted over the edge and zipped over to the hull stair case unseen. She landed softly on the floor and looked around the corner at the cell. The lantern hung illuminating the hall and under it was a drowsy guard.

On spotting him Wendy whipped back around the corner and with heavy breaths she tense and in a deep breath she launched around the corner her toes barely touching the ground. She darted forward the guard looked up daze but wasn’t able to make a sound before she barrelled into him, bringing the hilt of the dagger down as hard as she could on his skull.

She landed on top of him and went immediately to bring the hilt down again but the pirate didn’t move. Letting out a gush of breath that she didn’t release she’d been holding she turned towards the cell.

Tinker Bell was already there standing on Peter’s shoulder who was standing in the middle of the cell.

“Oh Peter you’re ok,” she breathed scrambling up to the bars, gripping the cool bars. She turned to the lock and fingered the key hole. She turned to the unconscious pirate, but no keys were on his belt loop. “He doesn’t have the keys!” she explained turning to Peter.

He was in front of her in a second. He wore the same expression that he had when they had dragged him away.

“Hook has the keys,” he said.  
“Where is he then?”  
Peter looked towards the exit with a small shrug.

Wendy gave a frustrated shrug and then with a half angry grunt, she braced herself, gripped the hilt with both hands and drew her arm back, with a mighty clang she jammed the tip of the knife into the key hole. Grunting she shimmed the knife as she dug it into the key hole.  

“That won’t work you silly girl,” Peter half quipped at her.

Wendy drew back, blew a strand of hair out of her face and glared at Peter.

“One girl is worth more than twenty boys,” she squabbled back and then with another grunt she jammed the dagger back into the key hole, jiggling it around. She gave it another good jab the sharp sound rattling down the hall and put her weight and wretched it back.

Peter went to open his mouth again but the sound of something giving with a violent click stopped him. The lock gave and the door slid open. With a triumphed smile she turned to Peter. He stepped closer, his hands hovering over her cheeks. Confused she tilted her head slightly before noticing that he was staring at the top of her head and remembering the sticky gash on her forehead. “Peter, I’m ok,” Wendy half whispered and Tinker Bell chimed loudly.  
“We should go,” he muttered and Wendy nodded.

He took her hand in his, stepped past her and led her down the hall.

They paused at the stair well and as they looked up to see Hook blocking the stairs.

He was grinning something fierce but his eyes drifted over Wendy and lingered on Peter but locked on the small, glowing fairy that drifted by his shoulder and Wendy could see the greedy want in his eyes.

Peter clenched her hand tighter, tapped her hand with two fingers and let her hand go. Wendy watched his shoulder and he rolled his shoulder slightly. A signal, to get ready and she let a small breath out.

It took a second for Peter to fly forward, pushing off the ground he barrel upwards, his shoulder connected with Hook square in the chest and they both went flying outwards. Wendy went after him, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. She took two steps and when she saw the sky her feet lifted from the wood.

She heard Hook connect with the deck and glanced down to see Peter flying up towards her, he grabbed her hand and tugged her into the sky with Tinker Bell lighting the way. Wendy couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and escaped, as she looked down too see the ship falling away and could faintly hear Hook yelling.

She flew level with Peter arms outstretched she turned to look at him, hair flying in the wind. He was grinning and Wendy felt her heart flutter.

They flew over the ocean and Peter led her round the coast flying low. They pasted mermaid lagoon and in the dim night light she could see the beautiful ladies and shimmering tails, they called and waved. Beside the sour memory that they weren’t sweet Wendy waved back.

They flew around coast before they flew inland over the trees and soon the familiar tree top hideaway came into view. Peter crowed as they as they flew closer, loud, and proud and Wendy laughed and joined in – her crow high pitched and nothing like Peter’s skilled voice.

They landed on a platform as Lost Boys spilled from the huts, crowing their welcome; they cheered jumping on the various platforms. Wendy laughed and waved and Peter led her to a hut, higher than the rest on the tallest of trees.

Landing he led her inside.

It was small and had the branches of the tree through the floor, straight through the middle. It had wonky shelves and stubby cuddles. Coins and jewels were scattered in various places as well as a few swords and blades. There was a low table with paper and charts, pillows scattered around it. In the far corner was a pile of blankets and pillows for a bed. It remaindered her so much of the old hideout.

Peter finally let go of her hand and walked into his hideout. Wendy snuck down onto a cushion at the table the thrill of flying ebbing from her body but she was smiling with happiness. Peter came round a moment latter a small bowl and a clean rag.

“Here let me see,” he muttered sitting down and turning her head to see her wound. He turned and gripped the rag and squeezed it tight and then dragged it along the dried blood along her forehead and down the side of her face, wiping it clean.

Wendy watched Peter closely for a moment before closing her eyes as he tended to her wound. Wincing slightly as he dabbed it against the broken skin but Peter was gentle and slowly he cleaned her face.

When he put the rag down Wendy blinked her eyes open and was shocked to see same harsh expression on his face. “Peter?” Wendy asked softly and he gave an exasperated, angry outlet, ruffling his hair violently then slumping onto the table on crossed arms staring angrily at her. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” he murmured and Wendy sighed shaking her head.

She patted his shoulder, “Wasn’t your fault,” she murmured at him. He grunted and then curiosity replaced his expression, and he reached up hooking a finger over the cord around her neck and tugging the silver thimble into view.

“You have this?” he sat up rolling the silver cap between his fingers.  
“Oh,” Wendy said, lifting the cord over her head, “Tinker Bell gave it to me when she went and got me from London.”

 She let go of the cord, the thimble caught in-between Peter’s fingers.

“I thought I had lost it,” he murmured, and there as a sense of relief that threaded into his voice that made Wendy’s cheeks turn pink. He looked at her, “Do you still have mine?” he asked her and Wendy smiled, “Of course!” She didn’t miss Peter’s eyes flicking to her neck – which remained bare. “I wear it all the time, it’s my good luck charm after all!” she spoke quickly, “But the other night I went to a party and my Aunt wouldn’t let me wear it.”  
“Not Lady like?” Peter laughs  
Wendy sours her face, “Now Wendy stop wearing something so childish, forget this Nerverway nonsense,” she mimics. Peter snorted and she shook her head and she pushed it back over her shoulder.

She rolls her shoulders and eyes how Peter grips the thimble, “Oh silly boy,” Wendy sighs and tugs the cord, the thimble slipped from his fingers. “Sit up,” and he did and she pulled it over his head the thimble falling over his heart, “There,” her voice is confident but small, “where it belongs.”

They sit there in silence, nothing nervous just a comfortable warm moment.

But the thing about moments is that it ends and they are brief and Peter stands up abruptly.

“There’s food over there,” he says, “I should go see the men,” and in a flurry he’s out the door and gone.

Wendy sighed and stood, walking over the bowl of fruit she selected an apple. Taking a bite she turned to look around Peter’s room. Since Peter had left in an emotional hurry again he hadn’t said she couldn’t look around. Wendy picked at the jewels and coins and ran her hands over the woven blankets from the Indian camp. There were swords and daggers around the place, not heaps but a few.

The apple was juicy and Wendy left the core on the table. She rubbed her wrists the raw redness had faded to slightly pink but was still tender. She made her way to the mirror to check her reflection. She had dark circles under her eyes and the paint mark Peter had made under her eye was smudged but her head wound wasn’t as bad as she thought. It was in her hair line, small and thin and still angry and red but Peter had cleaned it well; there was no dried blood to be found on her face and the wound looked clean.

There was a leaf stuck in her hair and pulled it loose and left it to fall on the ground. She made a face at herself and pushed her hair back, using her hands to hold the tangled brown mess up. All it did was reveal a scratch Wendy had on her throat – probably attained by running blind through a forest.

With a huff she dropped her hair and with a flush she caught herself wishing she looked better to impress Peter, caught her heart’s disappointment at her wind tangled hair, tired eyes and the dirt that was smudged over various parts of her.

She whipped away from the mirror and rolled her shoulders. Exhaustion catching up to her Wendy made her way to the bed of pillows. When she laid down the bed smelled musky and of Peter it comforted her and slowly Wendy drifted off curled up around a pillow. 


	5. Tinker Bell

Wendy woke slowly with a hand shaking her shoulder. “Wendy,” a voice called – Peter’s voice – and she felt a tired smiled break across her face. She sat up, rubbing her eye, “What time is it?” she asked Peter’s hand leaving her shoulder.

“Midday,” he said, “I thought I should wake you for lunch,” was what he mumbled.   
“Thank you,” she smiled and tried to discreetly tug her nightgown back over the knees as it had ridden up during her sleep.   
“There’s water on the table to…. Freshen up,” Peter explained and Wendy couldn’t help the small smile at the gesture. “I’ll wait outside for you,” Peter said.

Once the heavy material flap fell closed Wendy stood and made her way to the table. Taking the clean cloth and bowl of water provided she sat in front of the full length mirror.  Wendy scrubbed her face clean the water going slightly blue from the line painted under her eye. Once her face was clean she brought the rinsed rag back to her arms scrubbing her arms and her chest getting under her sleeves and inside the hem of the neckline.

Putting down the wash cloth the cool water making her feel clean and crisp. With her face clean now and a decent sleep no longer bags under her eyes and looked awake and refreshed Wendy couldn’t help notice her hair looked a lot like a frizzy lion's mane.

She spied a comb sitting on a shelf and she picked it up and turned back to the mirror. Avoiding the braid with feathers Wendy attempted to comb the nots in her hair and spent a lot of effort tugging the nots away with a few low hisses. But eventually she was able to tame her hair to something less crazy.

~*~*~

“Sorry I took so long,” Wendy said as she stepped through the door but Peter wasn’t anywhere there. She frowned before Tinker Bell flew up and smiled at her. “Where’s Peter?” she asks and was shocked by the sudden surprise of a reply, “I told him I would take you to lunch. I wanted to talk with you.”

Blinking Wendy stares at the small fairy and who was grinning up at her, “I… you,” she stammered down at the small person. She lifted into the air to be eye level with Wendy.   
“How?”  
Tinker Bell just smiles at her and Wendy can’t help but smiling back, getting the impression it was Tinker Bell was the cause that she could understand her.  
“Well however it happed I’m glad,” Wendy says fondly and she meant it.

Wendy broke the brief silence, “I didn’t thank you for rescuing me, so thank you.”  
“You’re welcome,” comes a small, soft voice, “Wasn’t a problem.”   
She watched as Tinker Bell brushed her hands over her green dress almost nervously.  “Tinker Bell?” Wendy asked hoping to encourage the tiny lady.  
“I came to talk about why I came and got you from, why Peter needs you,” Tinker Bell explains eyes down cast.   
“You came and got me because he’s not flying much anymore, because of all the changes happening in Neverland,” a pause, “Right?”  
Tinker Bell looked up at Wendy, “Why don’t you explain,” Wendy offered.  Tinker Bell nodded and then opened her mouth before closing it; she made a gesture with her hands, rolling them before blowing her fringe in frustration. “Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Wendy suggested and Tinker Bell gave her a sharp look that softened with a roll of her eyes.

She fluttered momentarily before coming to a floating rest at eye level.

“He’s heartbroken,” she says sadly “at first I thought he would feel better, especially after more boys came to Neverland, and for a while everything was all right – almost normal. It wasn’t until new pirates showed up in the bay that made the Queen suspicious.”  
“The Queen?”   
“Fairy Queen,” Tinker Bell quickly explained but continued with her story, “and Peter started growing – everyone did. But when it happed, when we noticed, we all knew something was wrong.” Her voice had grown worrisome and she rubbed her small hands together. Tinker Bell looked up at Wendy, “Peter has always been tied to Neverland and the Queen and the Indians know this and both have a similar Theory.”

The fairy took a break and Wendy waited tensely.

“We all thought he was just sad when you left but it wasn’t sadness it was heartbreak and Peter never moved on. A child doesn’t know the loss of love, doesn’t know heartbreak. I think he wanted to be with you and that’s why Neverland let him grow older; letting everyone grow up. Because of his connection the theory is that Neverland is trying to fill the hole that you left. But it’s not working so I came to get you. “  

Wendy was still stunned into silence.

“But. What. Ah,” Wendy gaped, she wasn’t confused but to hear that was startling. “How do you expect me to help?” Wendy asked, “I… I can’t stay here. I have to go back to London… and soon.”   
“I know,” Tinker Bell said her voice small and it was sad it flowed from her in waves. “I’m hoping you’ll take him with you; back to London.” Wendy didn’t miss the small tears that the fairy wiped from her check.    
“But he’s Peter Pan,” Wendy said scared to raise her voice. Tinker Bell nodded. "Why... would you do this?" Wendy asked, she was almost too scared to ask but she had to know. Tinker Bell looked up, and with the corners of her smalll mouth turning upwards she replied, "Because, I love Peter, we have been friends for long, long time. And like everyone he deserves to be happy. Purhpase he can't find it here anymore and I will not be the one who holds him here just because I'm selfish." Wendy didn't know how to respond, and they both turned to watch the trees and fell into silence.

“Wendy,” Tinker Bell said breaking the silence after a few minutes of watching the trees rustle with a soft breeze, “I’m sorry about before with what happened with the Lost Boys.” Wendy was confused with what she meant for moment but then remembered the arrow. “You really were a mean fairy,” Wendy commented but her voice had a smile, “But I forgave you long ago.” The small fairy smirked at her.   
“I forgave you long ago too!” Tinker Bell chirped at her glowing brightly.  
“For what?” Wendy gasped at her  
“For stealing Peter,” she said laughing at her.  
Wendy could only stare eyes bugged at the small fairy, shock and appal written on her face. With a laugh Tinker Bell flew around her shoulders, “Come on,” her small arm beckoning her to follow and the small fairy darted off as soon as Wendy began to float from the ground.

  
“Tinker Bell!” she called after her as she flew down from Peter’s hideout. Wendy could see the long table where she had first met the Lost Boys. Tinker Bell came into view and with a small smile, “You know you can call me Tink,” she said and Wendy grinned back and together they flew off towards the table filled with the Lost Boys and Peter. 


End file.
